


sunshine

by thorvaenn



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Breakfast, Come Eating, Coming In Pants, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Dry Humping, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Infinity War spoilers, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Slash, Protectiveness, Reconciliation, Sexual Inexperience, Sexual Tension, Showers, Spooning, Stormbreaker - Freeform, thor whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorvaenn/pseuds/thorvaenn
Summary: A post Infinity War fluffy piece.Thor and Loki are among those who are trying to pick up the pieces, but must first fix each other.Discontinued.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. Infinity War spoilers.
> 
> What I immediately needed to get out. Fluffy fluff. Complete self indulgence. So much spooning.

He’s been listening to Thor having nightmares every night for three weeks now.

 

The whole planet feels oppressive, like every single remaining human is waiting for the other shoe to drop, tensions so high that the very air seems to be poisoned by it.

 

It took him about a week to get here, scrambling through space, deciding that Earth was his best chance at finding Thor. And find him he did; protector of the Earth, serving alongside the Avengers to help the remaining three billion. And something else – figuring it out how to get the other half back.

 

He only waited long enough to get Thor alone. The chance presented itself at dusk when Thor left the Avengers compound and took a short walk through the forest that surrounded it, entering a solitary house. Wood and glass, clear lines. Separate from the rest of them.

 

Loki slipped in, barely glancing at the surroundings even as some far away part of his brain noticed with pleasure that this indeed was Thor’s home, the subtle scent of it being lived in by his brother catching him by surprise.

 

And then he revealed himself, a genuine apology spilling out.

 

Thor looked at him for the longest moment. Truthfully, Loki had expected anger. Or, in best case scenario, boisterous relief. He hadn’t expected the dull look in Thor’s eye, the seeming lack of reaction.

 

“I’m glad,” Thor said, softly. “You’re welcome to stay. We could use your help.”

 

Loki is unnerved by that reaction even now. He pokes and prods at the memory of the way Thor looked at him, what he said. It was like surrender, except Thor was never supposed to give up.

 

He’s set up in a spare bedroom. One wall is nothing but glass giving a flawless view of the lush forest. Another wall he shares with Thor’s room. And from there he can hear the sounds of anguish, night after night.

 

Stubbornly, he tells himself it’s not just him. It’s not his fault. He is here after all. Thor... they lost everyone else. Loki’s presence can’t undo that. Thor has a lifetime of horrors to relive each night. Loki’s actions barely make a dent.

 

He’s dozing himself one night when Thor cries out louder than usual and Loki is out of the bed and out the door before he can talk himself out of it.

 

He freezes at the threshold of Thor’s bedroom. There is Thor, in short pyjama pants and a tank top, covers thrown off, curled on his side and twitching. His back is to Loki and he can see the tendrils of Thor’s newly growing out hair darkened with sweat, plastered to his neck.

 

“Thor,” he tries cautiously, sitting on the edge of the bed. Reaching out to place his hand on Thor’s shoulder is probably an idiotic move that could get him punched in the face, or fried into the worst hair day he can imagine, but now that he’s here, he intends to see this through.

 

“Thor,” he repeats, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. Thor goes very still but obviously tense and Loki holds his breath. Then Thor turns his head ever so slightly towards Loki, the bunched muscles of his arms relaxing. In the quiet, Loki notices his own heart is pounding. This was a mistake. He’s-

 

Thor places his hand on top of Loki’s where he’s still holding Thor’s shoulder.

 

“I can’t do it again, brother,” Thor says, voice so rough with sleep and pain it’s almost unintelligible. “I won’t.”

 

 _Don’t ask. Don’t._ “Do what?”

 

“You know damn well what.” Loki is struck by the dissonance of Thor’s hand so gentle upon his own, Thor’s thumb stroking him lightly, and of the accusatory, _furious,_ tone of his voice.

 

“I said I was sorry, and I am. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. To make you believe it again.”

 

“Not this time,” Thor snaps, finally turning.

 

Loki rolls his eyes. “Not really the other times either.”

 

Thor looks like crap. Eye bloodshot, the other one... empty. No prosthetics or eyepatches in the privacy of his home. He’s pale save for the blotchy spots of red on his cheeks.

 

“I’m not talking about this,” Thor huffs, lying back down. Loki watches the offended, dismissive curl of Thor’s shoulders. He could go. He _should_ go. He’s done what he has set out to do; wake Thor from his nightmare.

 

He’s unwelcome now and the anger he has expected from his brother all along is finally here. All is right in the universe.

 

Except nothing is, really, and neither one of them are any closer to fixing it, no matter how many hours they spend brainstorming with the remaining Avengers. Loki can’t turn back time. Not yet. Can’t undo what he has done, he’s not sure he wants to even, but this, this right here is not completely out of his hands yet.

 

Sighing, he lies down, curling against Thor’s back. Thor’s a little too broad to be spooned; the last time they did this they were both small children, but it’s nice enough still.

 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into Thor’s ear, wrapping his arm around Thor’s waist.

 

“I’ll die before you,” Thor says, quiet and vicious. He wiggles so they fit together a bit better and pulls a blanket over them both. “You’ll see what it’s like. And I’ll never have to do it again.”

 

“Alright,” Loki allows, knocking his forehead into the nape of Thor’s neck. “That’s fair.”

 

Thor laughs, a little broken. “It’s really not.”

 

“No, not really, but look. We’re here still. I did promise you the sun would shine again, didn’t I? Was that a lie?”

 

“And for how long?”

 

It’s interesting, Loki notes, the way Thor’s voice vibrates through his torso, resonating into Loki’s own chest where they are pressed together. It’s quite lovely actually.

 

“Still not clairvoyant, Thor.”

 

Thor slowly falls asleep. Loki feels it happen, mildly puzzled. Thor’s belly expands underneath his palm with deep, slow breaths and as far as Loki can tell, he’s not dreaming at all, rather just sleeping like a log. A huge, warm log.

 

He could be persuaded to slip under as well. If Thor has a nightmare again, it will wake Loki easily and shake him out of it.

 

* * *

 

“Thor?”

 

“Thor, I really don’t mean to bug you, buddy, but we’ve had- Jesus.”

 

Loki drags himself out of sleep with effort, blinking in confusion. That’s the Captain, standing just beyond the open door of Thor’s bedroom, watching them. Apparently it’s normal for mortals to just invade their friends’ home at the ass crack of dawn.

 

He says as much, unwinding his arm from around Thor to rub at his eyes properly.

 

“It’s not dawn, Loki. It’s the _evening,_ the sun is setting, not coming up. We had a busy day scheduled and Thor didn’t turn up.”

 

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Thor says, slowly sitting up. “I... overslept.”

 

The suspicious look Rogers is giving them finally penetrates the sleep-confused haze of Loki’s brain and he grins before he can stop himself.

 

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rogers says, shaking his head and leaving, quite hurriedly in Loki’s opinion. His smile grows.

 

“What are you smiling about?” Thor grumbles, flopping onto the mattress. By the Norns, how exhausted were they to sleep not only through the night but the whole day as well? How long would they have slept still were it not for the interruption?

 

“Simply feeling well rested,” Loki says airily, hiding his amusement.

 

“I could sleep still,” Thor admits, almost sheepish. He’s on his back and his arm slowly inches around to where Loki is sitting, inviting an embrace should Loki choose to lie back down again alongside him.

 

He nods. “That’s probably wise.”

 

It’s different now, in the dim light instead of near darkness, without the excuse of acute nightmare hanging over them but Loki trudges on, joining Thor again, pillowing his head on Thor’s shoulder. Thor wraps his arms around him without hesitation and exhales; pleasure and relief.

 

Loki can’t blame him because that’s exactly what he’s feeling too.

 

“Missed the sunshine today,” Thor murmurs.

 

“No,” Loki shakes his head after a beat. “I don’t think we missed it at all.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this happened??

The next time they wake, it's to the sound of obnoxious, loud beeping.

 

Loki looks blearily around the room, finally locating the offending machine – a sleek alarm clock, which wouldn't be surprising, except he's certain that if Thor had it customarily set to wake him up, it would have happened the previous day as well. This must be interference from the Avengers.

 

Loki crushes it to bits and turns to survey the situation.

 

Thor, awake, but quiet. Their legs are still tangled together underneath the blankets and Loki extracts himself slowly.

 

Thor has always been a touchy person; Loki has never been – with two glaring exceptions. So this feels old, and safe. As though at least in sleep, they can trick themselves into thinking that they're small again, and careless, sharing a blanket that becomes the sky, that becomes a tent, that becomes a boat. And that in the morning, they will be woken up by flashes of gold curls, and a smile and tickles and kisses.

 

But no. Awake, they're brittle and seeing the world for what it is; a bleak, grievously wounded place.

 

Loki has yet to accompany Thor on a mission as it is wiser for him to remain at the compound and give his attention to the theory of the stones and what can be done, but he knows where the Avengers go and what they see; what they fight. Looting. People turning on each other as they scramble to save food and other necessities because half the workforce producing them has vanished. Or because half their family is gone and now they don't have enough people – or the right people – to bring in income. Vicious legacy fights are ensuing in different circles, turning to violence just so they can snatch what has been so _miraculously_ freed.

 

And all of that has come rushing on the tail of the more immediate, mundane consequences. Car crashes, plane crashes, ships lost in the ocean... the aftermath was still going on when Loki arrived here.

 

All of this means that Thor probably cannot stay in another day – maybe not even another hour – no matter how much Loki wishes to pull him and keep him.

 

“I'll make breakfast,” Thor announces levelly.

 

They've been sleeping for two days and Loki is indeed starving. The promise of sustenance slightly takes the edge off as cold air rushes in when Thor slips from underneath the blankets. The water starts in the adjoining bathroom and soon enough, steam is trailing through the door that Thor has left wide open; Loki can't see him in the shower, but even if he could, Thor probably wouldn't mind. He doesn't take long and emerges in a towel, his still quite short hair already drying and curling neatly.

 

Thor's hair always was annoyingly cooperative, unlike Loki's.

 

He heads to the bathroom next, walking past Thor as he searches for something to wear, the easy way with which they occupy the same living space as odd as it is familiar.

 

The shower stall is still filled with the fragrance of peach shampoo. Loki will soon enough chase it out with his lime one but for the moment, he just stands there, enveloped in it.

 

When he finally joins Thor, hair forcefully tamed, a light armour on, Thor is nearly finished. There are two plates piled high with scrambled eggs, another two plates stacked with pancakes, assorted fruits and sticky bottles of syrup at the ready. And two huge mugs of coffee, cream and sugar for Loki, just cream for Thor.

 

Thor is... efficient in a lot of the Midgardian ways. And he's really very good at their breakfast. Loki can't even needle Thor about it. He tried one time since they've been here together and his words got drowned in the sound of his stomach growling in excited hunger.

 

But Thor only smiled at him widely, in a way Loki had thought he might never see again, and so he was happy to lose that battle. Especially since Thor usually heads to the main building for breakfast and so this, just the two of them, hardly had a chance to become a habit in the past three weeks.

 

There's nothing to be said; Loki simply starts to demolish the pile of eggs in front of him, pretending to keep his gaze mostly on the windows and the forest beyond or on his plate, glancing at Thor only briefly and subtly.

 

“You're staring at me like I've grown another head overnight,” Thor notes, sipping his coffee.

 

“Perhaps then you'd finally be in possession of an entire brain,” Loki shoots back, already feeling his cheeks colouring at being caught.

 

Thor laughs and reaches to clasp Loki's shoulder. A twitch runs through Loki then, not entirely unpleasant. He thinks perhaps Thor shocked him; a little left over lightning that is always buzzing in Thor's veins, but he certainly won't ask.

 

“Knock knock,” comes a call from the hallway. Thor withdraws his hand.

 

“Come in, Steve.”

 

Loki stabs his fork into his pancakes. Drizzles extra syrup on them, not deigning to acknowledge the perpetually trespassing captain.

 

“Would you care for some breakfast?”

 

“I'm not sharing my pancakes,” Loki warns. From the corner of his eye, he can see the look Rogers is giving him.

 

“No, thanks, I already ate. We should head out soon, I wanted to make sure you were ready.”

 

Thor raises. “I am. And I am sorry for yesterday-”

 

“He shouldn't need to be sorry,” Loki interrupts, not looking away from his plate. “This is your mess of a planet, Captain, and you should be glad you have a god helping you.”

 

“ _He_ is standing right here,” Thor says.

 

Loki slowly looks up. The peace of this morning has vanished. He and Thor look at each other and Loki feels the loss of their understanding like water slipping through his fingers.

 

“We're all stretched thin,” Rogers says. How diplomatic of him. “You're needed at the compound too, Loki.”

 

“I'll be there shortly,” he snarls, shoving more pancakes into his mouth.

 

* * *

 

It's unusual for Loki to return to the house later than Thor does, but it's what ends up happening that night. He's found an intriguing alley of thought and tried to make sense of it with research and calculations that kept him almost until midnight.

 

The walk through the forest is pleasant after the air-conditioned, computer-buzzing atmosphere of the compound, as is the feeling of closing the door behind himself and entering the space that even in such a short time became his and Thor's.

 

He sighs in relief and starts down the darkened hallway only to stop abruptly with the realization that he's not quite sure where to go from here – literally.

 

Of course he should sleep in his own bed. They're not children. But the peace. The comfort they both so obviously felt in the past two days. Surely that's something Loki is allowed to consider?

 

After all, what reason is there to keep up the enmity, to push for independence and solitude over companionship and closeness? There's no throne. There's no... anyone or anything really to set up the imaginary stakes that he and Thor have always had to contend with.

 

One feet in front of the other, he comes far enough to peek through the open door to Thor's room. It's empty. Heart beating fast, Loki tries his own next – but Thor is not there either, _of course_ he isn't. There's no reason to feel disappointed about it.

 

“Thor?” he calls out.

 

“Out here.”

 

It's faint, very faint, but Loki knows where Thor is. Outside the living room, the glass wall can be opened to a patio that overlooks a little bubbling stream in the midst of the forest. It's set up with woven chairs and this is where Loki finds his brother now, sitting in the dark, a tumbler of liquor in his hand.

 

Loki sits down next to him and takes it out of his hands, prying the cold glass out of Thor's warm fingers and downing it in its entirety.

 

“I'm ready for bed,” he announces, voice jumping around the burn in his throat. “Are you coming?”

 

“Hm,” Thor nods, getting up slowly. Loki wonders if he's drunk. Surely not injured...

 

But Thor walks back inside steadily enough, closing up behind them. It leaves Loki with his previous dilemma. Where to? The house isn't large. Two more steps and he will be headed to his own bedroom and the chance will be lost.

 

But then Thor's warm, rough palm is closing around Loki's elbow and Thor is pulling him to a stop, standing right behind him and dropping his forehead onto his shoulder.

 

“Please,” Thor says. Loki can't smell any alcohol on him. He's likely consumed more in that one gulp than Thor has the whole evening. “Please.”

 

He pulls Thor's hand away from where it's grappling at his arm and turns so they're face to face.

 

Thor looks stricken. Deliberately, Loki presses Thor's hand against his own chest.

 

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

 

Later, underneath the blanket together, Thor admits: “I thought you might not come back. It's late.”

 

“And do what, bunk with the good captain? I was just at the compound, working.”

 

Thor's arms tighten around him. It's the other way this time and the entirety of Loki's back feels very toasty warm, pressed to Thor's chest like that.

 

“Thank you for doing this. For helping.”

 

“I think we've established where exactly my motivations for good behaviour usually lie.”

 

Thor sighs, but it's not unhappy. Fond, rather. Relieved. Loki nearly starts, barely stopping himself from jumping when he feels the press of warm, soft lips on his neck. It doesn't even last a second but it feels like a brand; it's still burning.

 

“I know, brother. I know.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

It's nearing 2AM when the quinjet lands and Loki is still at the compound, pretending to go over some calculations, should anyone feel bold enough to question his presence.

 

Nobody does.

 

He heads to the hangar, putting on the best mask of calm that he can muster. Four days. Four long days – and nights – that the main team, led by Rogers, was gone. There was a coup somewhere that Loki didn't bother to find on a map. A coup or an invasion from a neighbouring country or some such.

 

He doesn't feel like needlessly antagonizing them all by pointing it out, but the Avengers are just slapping band-aids on a problem that needs to be torn out at the root and obliterated.

 

The angry raccoon is out of the jet first, the rest follows slowly. Romanov and Rogers pass him by wordlessly but both glance at him in an unnervingly similar way. Guarded. On edge.

 

And something else.

 

Thor is the last out and Loki crosses his arms.

 

“Had fun?” he asks. And wishes he hadn't. Once Thor steps into the glaring white light of the hangar, Loki takes in his singed armour and pale face. And he's _limping_ for Norns' sake.

 

He makes an aborted stop towards him and stops himself. He doesn't need to turn around to know that he's being watched; they're not alone in the hangar.

 

Uncertain looking medic who barely looks old enough to grow a beard approaches them.

 

“Um, do you-”

 

Loki snatches the medical bag from his shoulder. More band-aids. If Thor needs them, Loki will be the one administering them.

 

“Get lost.”

 

He doesn't need to say it twice, the young medic flees and Thor shakes his head, passing by Loki and taking his wrist.

 

“Don't be rude. Come on.”

 

Half way through the forest path leading to the house, Loki finally snaps. “Why are you injured?”

 

“I'm not injured, I'm merely sore. I was reckless.”

 

“And that's supposed to make it better?”

 

Thor huffs and shakes his head. “What do you want me to say?”

 

What _does_ Loki want Thor to say? “You could try figuring that out for yourself sometimes,” Loki suggests sourly, pushing open the door and turning on the lights. They end up in the open kitchen and Thor gingerly sits down on a bar stool.

 

For lack of anything else to do – or rather, to avoid doing something rash – Loki pulls out a liquor bottle at random and pours two drinks, sliding one in front of Thor.

 

“So?”

 

“So,” Thor sighs, “we mended as much as we could. This is not like tearing onto a battlefield and obliterating every enemy in sight. There are cliques and insurgence and... it's hard to see who we should be stopping and who we should be protecting. Sometimes it's both.”

 

“As fascinating as the politics of this broken planet are, what I want to hear is how you got yourself into such a state. They're just humans.”

 

Thor glowers at him over the rim of his glass. “Fine. I didn't sleep at all, alright? And then there was an explosion.”

 

“You know what? I changed my mind. I don't want to hear it.”

 

Four nights without sleep. It's not dangerous as such for a god, but it takes a toll anyway; reflexes slowing, temper on edge. And of course Thor would opt to forgo sleep if the situation was as complex as he said and he had human companions with him who needed sleep sorely more than he did.

 

Thor taps the bottom of the glass against the counter, signalling. Loki pours. He can feel Thor watching him closely and then sees him smile from the corner of his eyes when he turns away to fill his own glass too.

 

“You know, the last time you were like this, you were a twig of a child and nearly a head shorter than I was.”

 

Ah, yes. Thor's growth spurt. And the time he started attending the training yard regularly, being permitted to learn at last.

 

“You had the looks of a fat colt. And the coordination of one too,” Loki grumbles.

 

“So worried for your older brother,” Thor teases, just as he used to when he noticed that Loki was always there, watching with anxiously wide eyes as Thor got knocked around with wooden swords by grown men.

 

“I'm cutting you off,” Loki announces, pushing the bottle away pointedly. Thor smiles at him, languid, but he's blinking slowly, looking like if left to his own devices, he could fall asleep then and there.

 

Loki picks up the medic bag just in case and pulls Thor off the stool by the elbow, steering him into the bathroom. Thor goes along with it but he's no longer smiling.

 

With a twitch of Loki's fingers, Thor's armour is gone, piled in the hallway to be determined if any of it can be salvaged.

 

It leaves Thor completely bare and he yelps a little, then laughs. “Loki...”

 

“What, did you think I'd just take your word for it?”

 

There are fading bruises and healing burns peppered all over Thor's skin. Those he can easily leave be. They'll be gone by morning. But worse could be hiding, unseen. He holds Thor steady by one hip, should he get some ideas, and runs his other hand over Thor's ribs, checking each for fractures.

 

“Your hands are cold,” Thor complains.

 

“Would you prefer a rib puncturing your lung?” Loki asks testily, pressing at the last rib until Thor squirms.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

He seems to be, but Loki checks anyway, focused on sensing anything out of the ordinary that might lurk hidden, running his hands over Thor's skin. Eventually convinced, he pulls back.

 

“Are you sure you didn't miss a spot?” Thor sighs, then points at his face. “I might have an ingrown hair or something.”

 

“Don't be gross,” Loki orders, slapping the side of Thor's thigh. “Go shower, there's soot all over you.”

 

Rolling his eye, Thor steps into the shower, turning it on. Loki slides the unused medic bag into the corner and starts to leave.

 

“Loki- damn, I'm-”

 

He whirls around, rushing towards Thor. Did he miss something?

 

“What? What is it?”

 

“I'm not sure, I-” And then the bastard is catching him by the shoulders and shoving him under the shower's spray, fully clothed.

 

Loki splutters, eyes and mouth full of water as Thor laughs next to him.

 

“There, all better. False alarm.”

 

“Ugh, you absolute ass,” Loki hisses, trying to get his hair out of his face. His waterlogged clothing sticks to him unpleasantly and with a defeated sigh, he vanishes it the same way he did Thor's.

 

“Sometimes I really wonder what goes on in your head,” Loki says with as much dignity as he can muster, naked and thoroughly pranked as he is.

 

Thor, contentedly shampooing away, doesn't respond.

 

Loki just dabbles some conditioner on the ends of his hair so that it's not a certified disaster and waits for Thor to be done.

 

“Do I have soot on my back?” Thor asks him, holding a foamy sponge up innocently a couple of minutes later.

 

“I see,” Loki says, plucking the sponge from Thor's hand. “You wanted an attendant.”

 

He scrubs at the long expanse of Thor's back purposefully harshly, but it backfires when Thor simply leans against the shower wall with both hands and groans in approval.

 

Tsking in warning, Loki nonetheless adjusts his grip on the sponge and gives Thor the thorough backwash he's wordlessly asking for. His own back itches in sympathetic need as he realizes how good that must feel and he considers asking Thor to return the favour.

 

And he would, if halfway through the scrubbing Thor's head didn't start to droop and he didn't sway on his feet.

 

“Enough, you,” Loki says, rinsing Thor off with the shower stream, sliding his hand over the wet skin until all the suds are gone. “You're making me tired just watching you. Come on.”

 

Thor nods and they leave the steamy cavern of the shower, drying. Loki does so much more efficiently than Thor who is by now very obviously past the point of no return, more than half asleep. He dries Thor's hair with a spell, earning himself a grateful half smile and then Thor shuffles out of the door and into the bedroom and falls on top of the covers.

 

Loki needs pyjamas, but they're all in his dresser in the next room. Before he can give his full attention to how entirely ridiculous it is for him to not want to leave Thor now that he's finally asleep, he turns to Thor's sleepwear, rummaging through the drawer until there's _something_ he can pull on and then he's joining Thor on the bed, poking and prodding at his sleeping brother until he gets the blankets over them.

 

As much as he scolded Thor for not sleeping, the truth is that despite retiring diligently at a reasonable hour each night, Loki has hardly rested well when Thor was away.

 

He inches closer to Thor who is still on his front, hands folded underneath his pillow. Throwing one arm over Thor's back and hitching his legs over the backs of Thor's thighs, he exhales, squeezing his eyes closed.

 

Is this who they are now? Lost gods stumbling through a mortal realm, desperate for peace and soft comforts?

 

 _So what if we are,_ he answers himself almost instantly. _Who is there left to judge us for it?_

 

The skin of Thor's shoulder is still a little damp from the shower where Loki presses his lips to it. Sleep is just a couple of breaths away, he can feel it, his body and mind resolutely lulled by the comfort his brother's closeness brings.

 

Perhaps next time he can join Thor in battle again.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, thank you so much for the incredible feedback. I am so sorry I haven't managed to respond to all your comments yet, but hopefully a new chapter will be enough to show my gratitude! I've read and appreciated everything <3

Thor loves waking up slowly. It is rare for him to be able to enjoy that languid, floating state, to savour how comfortable the bed is, that he is warm and well rested, but doesn't need to be fully conscious yet.

 

Some wakeful, diligent part of his mind is able to decide for him whether or not it is safe to remain sleepy and vulnerable rather than jolting awake all at once, senses reaching out to all the corners of the room – or the near surroundings, if he sleeps underneath the stars – to check for any dangers.

 

Now this part of his mind lets him slowly get bearing of all his limbs. Legs, a little cold because someone is hogging the covers. Thighs, tingling and parted, something warm pressed between them. His arms, securely wrapped around something solid. Cheek sweaty, pressed against soft skin as he instinctively chased a spot where he could feel Loki's steady pulse.

 

Last night is a little fuzzy. The last thing he remembers clearly is the slightly guilty pleasure of Loki scrubbing his back. He's not been able to hold back his need ever since Loki finally breached the careful chasm between them and offered comfort. Now Thor feels himself getting greedy for it, but doesn't have the willpower to stop.

 

They are on their sides, Loki's thigh wedged between Thor's as Thor hugs him close, face tucked against Loki's neck. When he pulls back ever so slightly and opens his eyes, he's near well startled by what he sees – he knows his sheets are dove grey and blue and Loki usually dresses in dark colours, so he blinks confusedly at the span of burgundy red in his limited field of vision.

 

A couple more seconds allow him to make sense of it – that's one of his Earth-made t-shirts and Loki is wearing it.

 

While Thor isn't wearing anything.

 

“Good morning,” Loki murmurs and Thor hums his reply, closing his eye again to keep the day away for a little while longer.

 

“Will one night be enough for you?”

 

Thor untucks his face from Loki's neck and frowns at him. “What?”

 

“One night of sleep. After you didn't sleep for four,” Loki elaborates, eyebrows rising. Thor squirms, warmth spilling over his cheeks.

 

“Oh, that. Yes, it will have to.”

 

Loki just nods, watching him. The red shirt makes his skin look even paler than usual and his eyes look huge, the sleep-redness more pronounced, as are his lips. He looks like he'd bruise at the slightest of touches. Thor brushes a thumb over the high point of his cheek to remind himself that it's not true.

 

“That's my shirt.”

 

“It is indeed. I was dragged to bed by a certain sleeping lug and didn't have a chance to fetch my own.”

 

He's aware that he's near well pawing at Loki's face; first his cheek, then a pinch to the chin until his hand slides down and settles around his – unbroken, unmarked – neck in a loose grasp.

 

“It's not really your colour, but...”

 

The corners of Loki's mouth pull up like he's trying to suppress a smile. “Brother, has anyone ever told you you have quite the judgemental streak?”

 

“I do not!” Thor protests.

 

“Really? Let's see, tell me this. Which of the Avengers is the most stylish? In or out of armour, doesn't matter.”

 

Thor opens his mouth. Closes it.

 

Huffs.

 

“Well, I am, but that's-”

 

Loki bursts out laughing, near well kneeing Thor in the groin as he does. Thor groans, trying to pacify Loki's flailing limbs.

 

“Let me guess,” Loki wheezes. “You're the most humble too.”

 

“Alright, trickster, you've had your fun,” Thor sighs, smiling helplessly.

 

How he's missed this; the teasing that is truly just that, light-hearted and enjoyed by both. Loki shakes his head, still grinning and runs an affectionate hand through Thor's hair. If he could, he'd probably start purring. It's the same bone melting pleasure like last night when Loki scrubbed his back.

 

“Do they need you today?” Loki asks. Thor glances around for a clock. During their journey back, they agreed to a meeting at lunchtime. “You said you couldn't sleep more than one day.”

 

“We are to reconvene at noon.”

 

Loki's eyes sparkle. “Oh.”

 

“What? What did you do, where is my clock?”

 

“Aaand we have incoming,” Loki sing-songs. “They really are pests, aren't they.”

 

Thor vows to close the bedroom door the next time. There is nearly a clear line of vision through the hallway to the entrance and by 'incoming,' Loki means that Natasha is entering, a long-suffering expression plainly visible on her face.

 

She comes to stand half a pace in front of the doorframe.

 

“We have a global crisis in progress, boys. Is it too much to ask that you come in on time sometimes? Or at the very least, don't cut off every single electronic we could use to call?”

 

“It's Loki fault,” Thor announces with dignity, disentangling himself from his brother and aiming for the bathroom.

 

Loki's snicker and Natasha's pursed lips remind him that he's still naked as he goes.

 

Well.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Thor, can I have a quick, cultural question?”

 

They've only done a rather quick check around the coast and are coming back on the jet early. Thor wanted to fly back on his own but instead he was strong-armed, so to speak, into joining them on the craft. He suspects this is the reason.

 

He sits down in the far back, contemplating just opening the door and jumping out if this gets to be too much.

 

“Of course.”

 

Natasha drops down on the opposite bench.

 

“The thing you have going on with Loki, is that just you or is that normal where you're from?”

 

Thor is no stranger to her; he's no stranger to spies and interrogators either. He recognizes the purposefully crude and dismissive tone, the vague wording. It's meant to rile him up and make him share more than was really asked of him.

 

Feeling slightly unimpressed, he leans back, hands resting lightly on the tops of his thighs, because no matter how much is the technique transparent to him, he has to fight against the need to cross his arms.

 

“We were royalty. No matter what the customs of our people were, we could be expected to _stand out_ , if you will.”

 

No change in her expression, except for a blink.

 

“And do you? Stand out?”

 

He rubs his bottom lip with his thumb. “We're all alone. If some of our people survived, it was no more than two dozen and we have no way of finding them. There's no one left for us to stand out of.”

 

“Well, there's us humans,” she smiles, tone dry. “Maybe we're your people now. And we get to see things that, trust me, aren't really what we're used to.”

 

“If you don't want to see me naked, perhaps don't come into my bedroom uninvited,” Thor smiles back beatifically.

 

“The nudity wasn't really the issue. It was Loki.”

 

Only just then it occurs to Thor that he is defending something that isn't actually happening.

 

Because it isn't.

 

It isn't, they're just...

 

They need to be close after everything that has happened. That's all.

 

Thor knows what he's doing. He takes comfort from Loki and gives it back as much as he can. And if at any point it becomes uncomfortable or if Loki rejects him, then Thor will know he has hit a boundary.

 

Then he will know it's wrong.

 

“We're gods, Natasha,” he says. “Do not go looking for flaws in us, you might find more than you can handle.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you'll enjoy some more of this <3 thank you so much for all your feedback.

Loki is wrestling with a holographic model of the Mind stone when Thor comes, lightly placing his hand at the back of his neck and leaning in close to murmur into his ear.

 

“Ready to go?”

 

“You’re back early,” Loki notes, eyes still on the model. Then he sighs, waving his hand to get rid of it. He’s no closer than he was yesterday.

 

“People decided to go easy on the murder and chaos today.”

 

“Hm, maybe I should fill up the quota then.” Turning, he finds himself nearly bumping into Thor with his nose; his brother is standing that close. “Maybe not the murder.”

 

“But you’re craving chaos?” Thor smiles, voice low and somehow heavy in a way that makes Loki shiver. “Why don’t you come flying with me? Would that suffice?”

 

Loki looks past Thor’s shoulder to where the Stormbreaker is propped up against a table. He’s not quite used to the sight of it in Thor’s hand. He never would have called Mjolnir an elegant weapon, but this thing seems so unwieldy compared to it.

 

But maybe he thinks that because he’s never actually seen Thor use it properly.

 

“Sounds exactly like what I need.”

 

They pass Romanov in the hallway and Loki finds himself yanked to Thor’s side, almost stumbling as Thor wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him close. He sees a challenging look exchanged between his brother and Romanov.

 

“What in Hel was that about?” he asks Thor as soon as they step outside. Thor is still holding him, spinning to face him and pressing them even closer, arm sliding down to Loki's waist – they will fly like this and Loki is already putting his arms around Thor’s neck, but it doesn’t explain the staring contest he just witnessed.

 

“I’ll tell you later,” Thor grumbles. And then all thoughts of Romanov – or anything really – flee from Loki’s mind as they’re launched into the air. He was unprepared – there was no spinning that always served as the warning that Thor was about to fly; he simply raised his arm, holding Loki steady with his other one and they _flew_ , clouds darkening around them in the diminishing light.

 

A current of electricity goes through Loki, tingling everywhere he and Thor touch, which is a lot, squeezed together as they are. “Thor...”

 

Thor looks at him with eyes that appear unseeing; they're lit up with power, blazing blue. But underneath, Thor smiles, his cocky, youngish smile and that's all the warning Loki gets before they're upside down and then he's shrieking and laughing at the same time, holding on to Thor for dear life. His pest of a brother whips them through the air, mindless of how they get soaked from the moisture of the clouds that he's summoning, ruining all resemblance of a calm evening where the sun sets peacefully on a clear horizon.

 

But, Loki supposes, that was the point of creating a little chaos. And it's contained too, in the most basic geographic sense. A little pocket of storm just for the two of them after the oppressive reality of living in a world full of mortals that were _faced_ with their mortality on an previously unknown level and haven't come out on the other side in one piece.  
  


He tucks his head against Thor's neck, breathing in the damp freshness and ozone. His hair must be a disaster and he can feel droplets of condensation soaking through his clothing and hugging Thor is like hugging a particularly static-y blanket but he feels light in a way that only comes in deep sleep when his consciousness relinquishes its hold, lulled by the sound of Thor's heartbeat.

 

He hears that too now, the excited thrum under Thor's skin, warming him and in turn, Loki too. With an embarrassed jolt, Loki realized there is a little extra of that warmth right around Thor's crotch; warmth and the accompanying hardness. Even mid-flight, Thor seems to notice his reaction and shifts a little, though it doesn't really help since they pull away without risking Loki falling. He might not get _terribly_ hurt but it would put a damper on the evening.

 

“Sorry.” Thor's lips brush against Loki's ear. “It's the storm.”

 

“That's a little self-congratulatory, wouldn't you say?” Loki replies once he manages to stop imitating a fish. The gall of him.

 

“Doesn't feel like it,” Thor rumbles and more electricity flows from him into Loki, but smoother this time, less like prickles and more like a hot wave of something powerful.

 

Loki bites back a groan. They're still hurling through the air as Thor takes them spinning, ascending sharply, then floating back down. His control over the flight is uncanny; Stormbreaker truly is something different than Mjolnir was; cleaving through the laws of physics where Mjolnir spited them. Forced to close his eyes against the strands of his hair whipping into them, he sometimes loses track of where is up and where is down; nothing solid beneath his feet, only the encompassing presence of Thor, holding him tight, to guide him.

 

It's not unlike their relationship at the moment. They only have each other not just to rely on. There's no one else.

 

And so Loki just sags against Thor, a breathless laugh getting lost in the wind.

 

“Very well. Take us for another spin and then home.”

 

* * *

 

Home. The small house is a temporary, humble dwelling. Yes, humble, despite how many gadgets Stark hid underneath the rustic interior. But after several weeks of sharing it with Thor, Loki has grown perfectly fond of it.

 

“How come you are using this place anyway?” he asks Thor as they peel off their wet clothes in the hallway. “When the rest of them share quarters at the compound?”

 

“I set my bed on fire two nights in,” Thor says calmly, dropping his leather trousers on the floor with a wet _plop_. Loki watches him go, bare-assed, down the hallway and disappear into the bedroom.

 

Indignant, Loki hurries after him and catches him just as he's opening the bathroom door, tossing Loki a wry smile over his shoulder.

 

“You got into the habit of setting your bed on fire and you let me sleep with you?!”

 

“It's not a habit, brother, it happened only once,” Thor says, shrugging, and turns on the shower. “Are you coming?”

 

Loki stands underneath the spray, edging Thor out, arms crossed as the delightfully hot shower beats down on his back and shoulders.

 

“Were you asleep?”

 

“Yep.” Thor's tone remains light enough but he's not meeting Loki's eyes, busying himself with soaping up instead. “Had a dream. My power got out of control and... then there was fire. It was put out soon enough, but I could tell everybody was on edge. This house was the obvious solution.”

 

“They use you and try to control you and then kick you out like an unruly puppy that has-”

 

Thor interrupts him with a tsk and a sponge thrown. “Why would you complain? Do you want to share the barracks with the Avengers? This is a private space, something I know some of them long for.”

 

No, of course not. Loki _likes_ it here. But something in him is spoiling for a fight, not necessarily with Thor, but he's on hand and that has been enough in the past. Still, he puts at least _some_ effort into not ruining the evening.

 

“What's your issue with Romanov?”

 

Thor sighs and Loki suspects he has hoped Loki would forget. As if.

 

“She thinks we are using our private space a little too privately.”

 

Loki lathers up his chest with the sponge Thor has tossed at him. “And what business is it of hers exactly?”

 

Thor smiles. “So you think we are?”

 

“Are what?” Loki squeezes more fresh smelling soap onto the sponge and hands it to Thor, turning around to present his back. He _also_ hasn't forgotten that Thor owes him a thorough scrub.

 

Thor pushes his hair out of the way, fingers brushing over Loki's collarbones when he's done. Then he presses the sponge to Loki's back. “Acting too privately.”

 

There are a lot of things on the tip of Loki's tongue. He settles perhaps for the simplest one, eyes following the swirls of the white marbling of the grey tiles.

 

“I'm not letting you sleep alone again.”

 

The sponge falls down almost soundlessly and Thor spreads his hands over Loki's shoulders, digging his thumbs into all the right spots. “Or bathe, apparently.”

 

Loki tries to shrug him off and turn around but Thor squeezes him in warning and Loki submits with a grimace. He doesn't want to deal with the headache that Thor could easily give him right now by messing up the already tender muscles of his upper back. “Do you have something to say to me?” he prompts Thor, voice cold.

 

“Shh.” Thor is nosing at his wet hair. “You must know I want you right here. Close.”

 

Loki _does_ know it. Thor has _asked_ for it. Tugging Loki to his room after Loki found him moping over an untouched drink. That little stunt that ended with Loki fully dressed in the shower with him.

 

“Then you best not mind mortal gossip,” Loki suggests pointedly.

 

“I don't think it's gossip when she says it to my face, but yes, I happen to agree with you.”

 

Loki laughs against his will. “Alright. She has courage, that's not news to me.”

 

“More than I do perhaps,” Thor jokes, swirling the suds all over Loki's back with open palms, abandoning his massage attempts. “I was going to jump out of the quinjet if I didn't like the conversation.”

 

“I'm afraid that would lack the correct dramatic flare. You are... something else in the air. Is it very different from Mjolnir to you?”

 

Thor's hands slow down, then slip downwards until Thor is doing nothing but loosely holding Loki by the hips.

 

“It's not... even remotely similar. All this time I thought my powers were coming from Mjolnir. That she was the storm and I was allowed to call upon her. But it was _me_. And Stormbreaker feels like... like an equal. When I call lightning with it, I can feel it coming from myself, channelled through a tool steady enough to withstand it. Its own value lies elsewhere, in the speed and the blade and in the power of Bifrost. It's... I'm sorry, I must not be speaking sense to you.”

 

Loki turns slowly and Thor lets him go as though he didn't even know he was holding him. Loki has one regret right now – that he couldn't see Thor's face as he shared his thoughts, but perhaps the illusion of being unseen, being alone was what allowed him to speak so freely.

 

Loki cups Thor's cheek, thumb running through his wet beard. “In this at least, you certainly speak sense. Rare. Enjoyable.”

 

They both crack a smile.

 

Loki taps his finger against the soft skin of Thor's under eye; the artificial, dark amber one. It reminds him of Heimdall a bit. He prefers it over the eyepatch look.

 

“Take it out. Your eyelid is a bit red.”

 

“I will. Let me finish your back first.”

 

Loki acquiesces to it even though his back is already scrubbed for a week in advance. But if Thor wants to find composure and prolong the moment, Loki will let him. What's the harm?

 

In turn, once they are out of the shower but still in the brightly lit bathroom, Loki takes a good look at Thor's empty eye socket and the sensitive skin around. The scarring is well sealed. The redness was nothing more than a little irritation after a long day and so Loki nods, sending Thor off with a smack to the butt.

 

“Little demon,” Thor grumbles, rubbing at the spot. And then he's falling into bed, naked again and Loki has missed his chance to remedy that because once Thor snuggles into the blankets, as he happens to be doing right then, there's no getting him back out.

 

Sighing, Loki joins him.

 

“No pyjamas?”

 

Wiggling to settle perhaps a bit more aggressively than necessary, Loki elbows Thor (“ _Oof._ ”) and snuffs out the lights.

 

“Well, since you criticized my choices...”

 

Silence. Thor hitches his thigh a bit higher over Loki's, blows at a stray strand of Loki's hair to get it out of his nose, giving Loki the worst case of goosebumps.

 

“In that case, maybe we could talk about your choices in day wear, brother...”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the amazing feedback <3

It's early, too early, in the morning when Loki comes to question his choice of forgoing sleep-clothes. He blinks blearily into the near darkness; there's only a hint of cool light outside and even the birds are silent still. He listens carefully for a bit to ensure that there are no trespassers and they're not about to be interrupted.

 

Thor is wrapped around him like an octopus, which isn't necessarily a problem, as that is what Loki is here for. For desperately needed comfort taken when the world sleeps. He has more or less made his peace with that.

 

But in the light of their conversation yesterday, it's hard to ignore the hot, sticky length of Thor's erection pressed into Loki's hip.

 

It should be seen as an intuitive, involuntary reaction of a sleeping body. And Loki near well discards it as such, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep, but then Thor's arms tighten around him further and he _presses_ closer. Loki can feel the pulse in Thor's erection tapping against his own skin.

 

And he doesn't hate it. At all.

 

Norns, when has he gotten so soft? When did he go back to being all of five years old, when nothing his beloved older brother did could be wrong?

 

Despite how blatantly _adult_ their current predicament is, Loki can't help but think back on those times. The innocence. The unconditional love and admiration he felt when he was looking up at Thor, chubby fingers constantly catching at Thor's sleeve, wanting to go on adventures with him, wanting to find the best hiding place and trade stories, play games that made them both shriek with laughter.

 

Best of all, the devotion was returned, at least in the couple of short years before Thor started making friends in the palace yard. Thor was doting on him, feeling very grown up and responsible when he was allowed to “look after” Loki, which really meant that they could run around the gardens while the nursemaids hung back in the shade and chatter amongst each other or read together quietly in one of their bedrooms.

 

Even his memories of Frigga from this time aren't as bright. Her nurturing presence was taken for granted then and Loki was gaining enough of an independent streak to prefer rough-housing with Thor than being cuddled by mama. At least until he grew tired.

 

Looking back, it feels like it was just the two of them in the entire world.

 

And it's like that again now.

 

It's not quite the dragon hunting adventure that they used to dream of though.

 

No clear purpose in mind, he wiggles a little, trying to turn so that he and Thor are facing each other. He succeeds only partially and Thor leans even more heavily on him, his thigh pressing between Loki's, grunting in his sleep a little.

 

Loki bites down a smile. There are some possibilities for an interesting game here.

 

He strokes his hand slowly down the length of Thor's back, nosing at Thor's cheek. Thor's erection is now skimming the top of his thigh, very much in danger of pressing against his own cock fully. He's going to avoid that for now because the plan that solidifies in his mind is simple – see how far he can take Thor without waking him.

 

He leaves his hand splayed at the small of Thor's back. The first purposeful shift of his hips against Thor's feels like the easiest, most natural thing he could do and yet once it's done, he hesitates. He's just stepped over the line. He's just _thrust,_ willingly, against his brother's cock.

 

And Thor isn't even awake to give his opinion on it.

 

He stops, uncertain, and then Thor inhales sharply, pulse jumping; Loki can feel it in his erection and in the soft thuds of his heartbeat.

 

Feeling caught, he waits. Thor's breathing is accelerated and he slowly loosens his grip, letting Loki lean away a bit.

 

“Did I wake you?” Thor whispers, voice rough with sleep.

 

“In a manner of speaking.” It very well may have been Thor poking at him that woke him up in the first place, but after that, it was really him who was squirming around, waking _Thor_ up.

 

Neither of them move for a long while. Thor's erection remains quite prominent. Seeing as he didn't put a stop to this when he could, Loki decides to proceed with his original plan, slightly modified. It's even more fun this way – how far will he be able to take Thor when he's no longer sleeping?

 

He pushes up against Thor, keeping him from moving away with an arm still thrown against Thor's waist.

 

And Thor laughs, a little warm chuckle right at Loki's ear that makes Loki grin.

 

“I've only had the most pleasant dreams since you've been here with me,” Thor confesses before pressing his lips to the curve of Loki's jaw, voice all warm and liquid.

 

“I can tell,” Loki snickers in response, hoping to needle Thor into finally addressing the bilgesnipe in the room. He then makes a mental note to also minimize thinking about Thor's cock and bilgesnipe as though they belong in the same mental category..

 

“You don't seem very upset.”

 

Loki hears the question in that statement, the tentative breach into the topic. _May I? Will we?_

 

“We don't choose what we dream of.”

 

“And what do _you_ dream of, brother?”

 

Heart skipping a beat, Loki pulls back so that Thor's cock is no longer smearing pre-come all over his lap. Dawn is only very lazily coming, unhurried and it feels like time doesn't exist. Loki is vulnerable to the liminal moments, he always has been, and Thor's seemingly innocuous question is clawing at him, demanding honesty.

 

He speaks quietly, looking over Thor's shoulder into nothing.

 

“I forget my dreams as soon as I open my eyes. But I can tell you what I think of when I lie in bed before starting my day. I think about how it took losing everything and dying thrice for my senseless pride to finally settle.”

 

Thor seems to take the change of mood in stride. “Pride isn't always a bad thing. You need to know your worth.”

 

Loki rolls onto his back. “It was a bad thing when it made me hurt you.”

 

He doesn't need to look at Thor's face, preferring to stare stubbornly at the ceiling, to be aware of how shocked Thor is to hear all this.

 

“You don't need to apologize to me,” Thor says quietly.

 

“Don't I? Perhaps I won't apologize for fighting you. For taking the throne. But I-” he huffs, fighting hard to keep his words as precise as he can. “I thought about how much we loved each other as children. And I _am_ sorry that at times that became tainted.”

 

Thor still has an arm thrown around Loki's waist, despite the larger distance between their bodies, and he snatches it back.

 

_Tainted._

 

“No, Thor-” Loki all but gasps, rolling to his side to fit himself from head to toe against Thor again. “Not like that. Come here.”

 

So much for speaking with precision so that Thor couldn't mistake his meaning. Skin on skin again, he can't imagine calling this _tainted._ Thor is not as hard as he was, likely spooked and so Loki wriggles more firmly into his embrace.

 

Sighing with relief into Loki's hair, Thor holds him and kisses his cheek and Loki luxuriates in the warm feeling that spreads all the way to the tips of his fingers.

 

“I don't want to make any more mistakes,” Thor tells him.

 

“I will let you know if you make any,” Loki laughs and Thor joins him.

 

“That is exactly what I have been counting on, actually.”

 

Oh and that is intriguing. So Thor was planning on leaving it all up to Loki.

 

“This new-found restraint of yours is interesting. I'm not sure I entirely like it,” Loki says, pressing his palm to his favourite spot again; the small of Thor's back, settling his thumb into one of the dimples there.

 

Thor sucks in a breath and then bites Loki on the shoulder.

 

“Ngh,” Loki says, head spinning with how deliciously sharp that felt. Waking his body and rousing his mind from maudlin thoughts about the _hows_ and _ifs_ that he's been so occupied with. Games and memories give way to the stark reality of two warm bodies, of the familiar smell of Thor's skin, of the quickened pulse that serves as a beacon of his brother's excitement.

 

“And what if it is the other way around?”

 

“Hm?” Thor prompts, mouth still hovering over Loki's skin like he plans on taking a bite again.

 

“Mistakes. Me,” is all Loki manages, waiting for the pinch of Thor's teeth. What he gets instead is a lingering kiss to the collarbone and Thor looking up at him, smiling.

 

“It's going to be fine.”

 

“Bite me again,” Loki asks and Thor's eye goes dark even as his grin widens. He pushes at Loki until he's flat on his back and props himself up above him.

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

Loki scowls. “I wanted you to bite me, not give myself over to the mercy of whatever juvenile prank you're thinking of.”

 

“Don't you trust me?” Thor's pout is over-exaggerated and should in no way be endearing.

 

“Very well,” Loki huffs. “Just consider the consequences of getting on my bad side right now.”

 

“I see no bad sides,” Thor informs him smugly as soon as Loki closes his eyes. Then Thor is running his thumb over Loki's bottom lip, making him relax his mouth, wiping away all the remnants of a frown. And then, still holding Loki's bottom lip available with the very tip of his finger, Thor leans in and bites him there, catching it between his teeth for the briefest of moments and pressing down, the force of it kept well below the point of any pain.

 

He keeps his eyes closed, heart hammering. Thor is no longer the only one with an erection.

 

“Like that?” Thor asks, vulnerability in his tone, when Loki doesn't react.

 

He opens his eyes, staring up at Thor. “Yes. Like that.”

 

“Anywhere else?” His valiant brother is trying to keep it light with a smile, but he can't fool Loki, not with the heaviness of his gaze. And certainly not with the heaviness in his nether regions.

 

“Perhaps,” Loki allows.

 

Thor nods and nudges Loki's head to the side with his temple in a very cat-like manner until he has free access to Loki's neck. Agonizingly slowly, he presses his open mouth over Loki's fluttering pulse and bites down lightly.

 

“I like it,” Thor says, so close that his breath cools the spit he's left behind and makes chills run down Loki's spine. “I can feel you alive.”

 

Loki _feels_ alive too, intensely, acutely so.

 

He reaches up, stroking Thor's mouth the same way Thor did to him, then pushes his thumb past his lips, running the pad over the sharp edge of Thor's teeth. Thor lets him for a moment, then wraps his lips around the digit in a pantomime of kiss and pulls back.

 

“I'll have to go soon,” he says, all apologetic, kneeling over Loki's legs with his cock bobbing up in his lap.

 

Loki prefers not to look down at himself to see exactly what his body is betraying to Thor's eyes.

 

He wants to say something cutting about the Avengers and their pointless little missions but he feels like a pinned butterfly underneath Thor's gaze.

 

And it's not just that. If he were to be honest with himself, he would also have to admit that he doesn't want to sour Thor's mood.

 

And so he only nods, reaching for a blanket to pull over himself and at least pretend he is going back to sleep.

 

“Then I will see you tonight.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my brain: that's a nice fluff you've got there... would be a shame if something... happened to it

Loki doesn't see the point in forcing these socializing evenings when all the Avengers really do is mope over everyone they have lost – and failed to get back so far. He shovels Chinese from a box into his mouth, sitting on the couch while Thor sits on the ground and leans against his legs.

 

The lounge is a little too large for how many of them are left and there is enough space for Thor to sit anywhere on one of the couches, but he sticks close to Loki. It makes the others a little, but Loki doesn't mind, especially as he's certain that the mood would be lousy even without his presence and Thor's stubborn proximity.

 

He inhales his food and daydreams of sitting with Thor on their little patio in the woods instead of this.

 

The conversation is mostly carried by Rogers and Rhodes. Romanov is sitting cross-legged on a couch all by herself, clad comfortably in sweatpants, watching them none too subtly. As such, Loki doesn't feel the need to be subtle in return. He leans forward, reaching with his chopsticks to pluck a particularly attractive bit from Thor's box.

 

Beyond used to it, Thor doesn't react.

 

A couple of mouthfuls later, Thor twists around, reaching up to Loki to take his box from him, inspect it, and pick a piece in return, popping it in his mouth.

 

“Good?” Loki asks and Thor hums his assent.

 

Loki sits back, pointedly not looking at Romanov.

 

“That was acceptable, was it not?” Thor says later as they walk back home through the forest.

 

“The food? Yes,” Loki snorts.

 

“Loki... they're not, they're not bad people.” Ah and his brother knows how to be earnest, pressing a hand to the small of Loki's back, voice coaxing.

 

“I can't be the judge of that, but what they _are_ is broken and desperate and looking for small problems to distract them from the large ones.”

 

Thor pulls his hand back and says nothing for the rest of the way back.

 

Loki hopes to go through their routine and perhaps continue where they left off but one look at Thor's face once they're inside tells him that he should perhaps not be so optimistic. The corners of Thor's mouth are pulled down and he won't meet Loki's eyes.

 

A flash of irritation runs down Loki's spine. He won't pander to the mortals. He has no need to – he is civil to them. He is _helpful._ Surely he doesn't need to offer small-talk too?

 

Thor stands around in the kitchen, looking a bit lost and Loki has half a mind to go into his – now rather unused – own room and slam the door and not look at Thor's sad face again.

 

But then Thor moves to pour a drink, like their evening is still on and Loki hesitates. Then it feels too late to storm out and he accepts the glass awkwardly as Thor takes his own.

 

“Are you going to pout the whole night?” Loki growls once he downs the drink.

 

“What?” Thor's head snaps up and he's all wide eyes and naked hurt in the real one. “I was only...”

 

“You constantly expect me to be something I am not.”

 

Thor stares at him. Then, slowly: “I was thinking about what you said. About my friends being broken. And you're right, they are, and it's my fault.”

 

The glass nearly slips through Loki's fingers. He catches it at the last moment, then places it on the counter just to be safe.

 

“What in Hel could you possibly mean by that?” he asks Thor, fighting to keep his voice calm.

 

“I had him,” Thor says, pressing his hand to his own chest. “I had him, right here. I cleaved the damn axe right into his heart and it did nothing.”

 

“Have you finally been hit over the head one too many times? This is not your fault, none of it is,” Loki tells him, voice trembling with rage almost too much for him to keep speaking.

 

“But it is. It is. He even said it, I should have gone for the _head-_ ”

 

Loki laughs, aware of how ugly it sounded. “Oh _he_ said it, yes? And if you had gone for the head, he would have ducked and told you you should have been _faster_.”

 

Thor looks at him in a way that that makes Loki feel dissected to the bone.

 

“First he killed all of my people,” Thor continues softly. “Then he killed you. And then he killed _everyone._ And every step of the way I was there and I could have _stopped_ him.”

 

“Wrong, wrong, wrong and _wrong_ ,” Loki counters the statements one by one. “Our people are still out there. They can live on. And we will get the rest back, we will reverse his mad magic. Once he had all the stones, none of us stood a chance. You can credit yourself with doing more to stop him from getting them than most.”

 

Loki has, in his life, done a great deal of complaining about Thor's unwillingness to listen. But seeing Thor denying his words now with a brittle, rueful smile and a defeated shake of his head, he feels the level of rage that can only be born out of helplessness.

 

“Stop it,” he demands, catching Thor by the shoulders and bodily shaking him. “Stop it, this is not on you.”

 

Thor just lets himself be flopped around and Loki watches with horror as Thor seems to sink deeper into his own mind.

 

Loki needs to stop him.

 

“Would you like me to say it? Do you want me to describe all I've done to bring him the Tesseract, how, even in failure, I ended up taking it and bringing his attention right to it as our people died screaming all around us?”

 

Thor pushes him away, _hard_ , so hard that Loki lands against the counter and comes close to breaking right through it. “Then I should have stopped you from ever falling into his grasp!”

 

Thor's shout rattles the glass panes and as they quieten, it leaves them in dead silence. Like they're underwater, which is fitting, since Loki finds he can't breathe.

 

It's entire minutes before Loki pushes himself from the counter, feeling a twinge in his back from the impact. Thor is just standing there, looking, for all his size, like a lost boy, shoulders hunched, breathing uneven.

 

He approaches carefully, slowly cupping Thor's face in his hands and waits until Thor shows no resistance to having his head tipped up. When that happens, Loki presses his lips carefully right between Thor's eyebrows, then to his forehead, then to his left cheek.

 

He takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous – or perhaps fearful – about what he's going to say. Something that he has never said, something that he has not thought about or decided to challenge in his mind for a very long time.

 

“And that, brother,” he whispers against Thor's cheek, “was not your fault either.”

 

One heaving sob, then Thor's arms come around him and Loki surrenders to the hug, holding Thor back. But one sob becomes two, three and twenty and then Thor is leaning on Loki with enough of his weight to nearly send them both to ground.

 

Loki's heart hurts for him, for _both_ of them.

 

“Come,” he murmurs to Thor, stroking his back. “Come to bed with me.”

 

Because he knows, can feel it in the tremors that seem to come somewhere from Thor's core, like an earthquake, that Thor has finally let loose the grief that went hidden, untouched, pushed aside for a decade. And growing. Ever-growing as strike after strike landed.

 

There is no stopping it, nor would stopping it do any good and so Loki only puts his effort into dragging Thor into bed, stripping them both with seidr and wrapping himself around Thor as tightly as he comfortably can, letting Thor weep into his shoulder.

 

There's little comfort that Loki can offer Thor in words beyond what was already said. Thor knows, surely knows, that Loki loves him.

 

But what Thor really wants is for Loki to stay and that's something that only time can give him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to Angie for [this gorgeous art ](http://angeline-farewell.tumblr.com/post/173902082013/thor-is-the-big-spoon-this-time-its-early-too) and to artoowatch for [this one](https://artoowatch.tumblr.com/post/173768773143/missed-the-sunshine-today-thor-murmurs-no).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and such great feedback!

There's no sleep that night. Loki fetches a wet towel, forced to summon it from the bathroom rather than getting up and taking it. He cools it, hand turning blue as he does, which he attempts to hide from Thor with questionable success. Then again, Thor's eyes are near swollen shut from crying and the room is dark; maybe he does miss the change.

 

Thor is curled on his side, facing Loki. Loki takes the towel, now near frozen, and presses it over Thor's eyes.

 

“Thank you,” Thor rasps. He has gone quiet in the last minutes, the heaving sobs that wrecked through his whole body finally subsiding. Loki strokes his temple, making sure the towel stays in place and soothes Thor's heated skin.

 

Loki is aware of a feeling somewhere low in his belly; it's shame.

 

In his panic at Thor's outburst, he has been forced to face – and express – things that have gone unspoken between them before.

 

And Loki hasn't realized how much he has changed until he was standing there, in a kitchen on Midgard, watching Thor break.

 

Because there was no glee, no fake cover of concern while he tittered inside in amusement the way it had been so often in the last centuries, when the bitterness in him won over his youthful brotherly affection. No, his heart was breaking right along Thor's and all he wanted to do was make Thor stop hurting.

 

Even by revealing secrets and failure long kept close. Like the part he played in Thanos' plan.

 

And the regrets he has.

 

Exhaling in a rush, Loki adjusts the towel over Thor's eyes needlessly.

 

“I wasn't sure what was happening when you came back,” Thor says then, voice still terribly rough, and Loki stops his fussing, startled. “It felt like maybe I was stuck. Doomed to repeat the pain of losing you over and over again.”

 

Loki remembers. Remembers the seeming lack of reaction, the plunging nothingness in Thor's eyes when he revealed himself to him, in the hallway right outside this very room.

 

“I wish I had time to warn you, to explain. You don't deserve this and I... I don't deserve your forgiveness.”

 

It hurts to say it, like his throat is physically resisting it.

 

Slowly, Thor pulls the towel away and reaches to cup Loki's neck, thumb stroking his cheek. The swelling of his face has only gone down a little bit and he's still looks miserable and beyond tired.

 

“Don't _I_ deserve forgiveness from you?”

 

“That's not what I said-”

 

“No, it is not, but don't you think it should be the same? We are _brothers._ ”

 

“ _My_ failings and yours are quite different,” Loki huffs.

 

“They're in the past, that's also what they have in common,” Thor insists.

 

“Hm,” Loki drawls. “One of your failings is being as stubborn as a mule and from where I'm standing, that's still the case.”

 

Thor laughs, weakly, quietly, but it's a laugh and Loki vows to stop these nonsensical conversations for tonight. Sitting up, he pushes at Thor's shoulder until Thor lies on his back and he grabs the towel again, giving it another chill before reapplying it to Thor's eyes.

 

“Mm, feels good,” Thor mumbles and Loki is relieved that he seems willing to let the conversation go. Then Thor reaches out, grasping Loki's hands in his own and Loki would think he was merely looking to show gratitude – or affection – but there is something searching, purposeful in the way Thor runs his thumbs over Loki's knuckles.

 

Still blinded by the towel, Thor speaks again. “You're using Jotun seidr.”

 

“I wouldn't have to if you let me go to the freezer,” Loki huffs, affronted.

 

“Hm, nope. Nobody leaves this bed.”

 

Loki could turn blue all over and he'd still be kept warm by the feeling that spreads in his chest as he gets to not only witness, but feel Thor's easy affection. The need to return the favour is like a magnetic pull that compels him to fit himself more neatly to Thor's side, arranging the blankets around them so that they are comfortable and dimming the remaining light that he has summoned to help him better gauge Thor's reactions and help him soothe, at least, the physical aches of such violent grief.

 

He kisses Thor's bare shoulder, a little mindlessly at first, then with purpose, pressing little chaste kisses to the tan, smooth skin there. Thor used to have freckles as a boy and Loki is sorry to see them gone.

 

Thor is breathing evenly though he is undoubtedly awake and aware but he's still, the only tension in is body remaining where his left arm is curled around Loki. Loki changes the direction of his kisses and moves across Thor's chest.

 

There are two lovely, tiny nipples waiting for him and while his mouth waters, he pauses, glancing up. But Thor can't see him, dutifully cooling his swollen eyes with the towel still.

 

Unseen, Loki feels both safer and more mischievous; experiences that don't usually go together for him.

 

And so it's only with one last small burst of determination that he drags his bottom lip over the numb of Thor's nipple. It stiffens underneath the thin skin of his lip and Thor's breath hitches, then escapes him in a hasty exhale that ends on a quiet groan.

 

Loki grins and then forces his mouth to relax so that he can press it softly over the pebbled skin.

 

Thor's arm tightens around him.

 

“I wish we could go away,” Thor mumbles. “Somewhere, anywhere, where we could just be alone. Do nothing but the bare necessities to keep ourselves fed and clean. Stay in bed for days.”

 

Loki listens, rapt. He feels privileged to hear Thor's wishful musings when he knows nothing will stop Thor remaining exactly where he is needed the most, fighting to his last breath. It's a pipe dream, one of the dragonflies that were the first things Loki has learned to summon with magic; translucent, made of nothing but light and soon to disappear, but beautiful nonetheless.

 

“This isn't forever. We will figure it out. And then we very well may do it. Just disappear,” Loki promises him.

 

He means it, mostly. His research is making him slightly less optimistic that he's letting his brother know.

 

The easiest (easy being an extremely relative term in this situation) way to undo the damage done to the universe would be to go back in time and stop it from happening altogether.

 

The mere thought makes Loki's stomach churn. If they went back, they would have to go far enough to make a radical change. The thought of reverting to his angry, bitter self, the one who hasn't yet learned what it would really mean to lose Thor, to destroy everything they once had, is almost too much to contemplate. So is thinking about the possibility that they wouldn't end up right here where they are now. That a misstep or the wrong word would send them in opposing directions and that even if they survived and many – trillions – lived happily on, they wouldn't be together. And so Loki will do his best to reverse nothing but the deaths.

 

It will be painful and dangerous for everyone to reappear where they were, if they manage it. The wrongs done ever since will remain. People who have been on planes and ships will likely die, along with many of those who have been driving or riding in cars. And Loki will let that happen, have them pay the price for this. For what he and Thor have.

 

“What's wrong?” Thor asks. “I've upset you.”

 

Loki laughs, startled. “You really haven't.”

 

He doesn't know what to make of Thor's ability to read him so thoroughly even with his eyes closed. He hasn't grasped what has sent Loki's thoughts spiralling into dark places as he doesn't know the specifics of Loki's research, but he has felt it well enough.

 

To show that it wasn't Thor's fault, Loki returns to his kisses, peppering them on the underside of Thor's jaw even as his hand gets bolder, petting the broad expanse of Thor's chest.

 

He wants to chase away the dark thoughts. He wants to feel like he's worthy of being here, of someone as bright and perfect as Thor loving him. And he doesn't see why he can't start easy.

 

“Would it be very important to you, if I was better to the mortals? Tried harder?”

 

Thor shrugs. “Only if they return the effort.”

 

Loki blinks. Opens his mouth, closes it again.

 

“What other, then?” he asks. Nearly demands. “What can I- How can I...”

 

Thor takes the towel off of his face and rubs his eyes, or more accurately his eye and his eye socket, and looks at Loki.

 

“Look at us,” Thor says, then dips in to kiss the corner of Loki's mouth. “Do you not think this is as near to perfection as we could be?”

 

Loki wets his lips, body slowly starting to hum with a sort of energy he usually associates with a bad case of nerves. Or arousal.

 

“I feel selfish,” Thor continues. “Everything has gone so wrong but you and I... I wouldn't change it for all the realms.”

 

It's too much. Loki hasn't anticipated, hasn't been ready for Thor to voice something so eerily similar to what he was, in his own way, also thinking.

 

He rolls away and sits up, needing to be away from the warmth of Thor's skin for a second. To think.

 

“I'm sorry, that was presumptuous of me,” Thor whispers.

 

“Don't be stupid,” Loki snaps, then takes a deep breath and tries again, more gently. “Don't be silly. You're completely right, of course.”

 

Thor strokes his back, just a gentle drag of fingers up and down Loki's spine. He hasn't sat up and followed Loki and Loki is grateful for the bit of distance even though they're still both naked in bed together.

 

He pulls the next words out of him almost with force, fighting against his very nature that is telling him to flee, hide, deflect. “It's simply that this means so much to me I don't know what to do with myself. I don't want to ruin it. Disappoint you.”

 

His pride stings at the immediate crooning, soothing sound that Thor makes. He waits, a part of him that still has some reason left forcing him to weigh his words, to not be rash.

 

“I hope you know this,” Thor says. “I'm trying not to take it for granted. But I hope you know that I see you. I _know_ you and how could I not? You're my brother. I've seen you at your best and your worst and I love you whole.”

 

Loki shudders, barely swallowing a sob of his own. “Thor...”

 

Thor doesn't say anything else, still running his hand up and down Loki's back. Waiting. When Loki composes himself sufficiently, he turns to Thor, finding the silhouette of him in the dark, one arm folded under his head, other still reached out towards Loki, like he has to keep at least some contact between them.

 

Loki shifts until he can prop himself up on both hands and lean down. He presses his mouth to Thor's, just lightly, a thank you and a promise.

 

Thor makes a quiet, happy sound and slides both of his hands into Loki's hair. He's not pulling him closer, but merely holding him there, close enough to share air. Then Thor combs his fingers through Loki's hair until it's hanging down around them, creating a little private pocket of space.

 

Loki rubs their noses together, delighting at Thor's reaction to such a child-like, nostalgic gesture. He has forgotten, or perhaps forced himself to forget, how addictive it can be to be the source of Thor's happiness. But he thinks that maybe now he can keep doing it without the fear of losing himself.

 

He stretches out next to Thor, their legs tangled and cheeks pressed together.

 

“You need a day off,” Loki announces and Thor hesitates briefly, then shrugs.

 

“I could have it, I believe. I'll make the arrangements in the morning.”

 

Loki nods and lets him think that, fully intending to let Thor sleep as long as he will be able, seeing as the hour is very late already and it would defeat the purpose of rest if he was to get up early and go haggle for some free time. He has his own idea how to secure the 'arrangements'.

 

He can feel in the way Thor is relaxing that sleep will come now.

 

“Thank you for today, brother,” Thor mumbles and Loki squeezes his eyes shut, kissing Thor's cheek.

 

“Good night,” is all he says because while he knows thanks is unnecessary, he also knows why Thor needs to say it.

 

The thought makes him smile into the darkness. There's hope for him yet.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [artoowatch](https://artoowatch.tumblr.com) for [this gorgeous art](https://artoowatch.tumblr.com/post/175308078843/why-dont-you-come-flying-with-me-been-a-rough). <3

Thor groans when he opens his eyes and the light outside tells him it’s midday. Then he groans again when he takes a look at his brother and finds him awake and entirely smug.

 

“I take it I have the day off then.”

 

“It would appear so,” Loki says lightly and pushes sleep-tousled strands of short hair away from Thor's face. Thor notes he's regrettably clothed, though on second thought he supposes it's best that Loki didn't go announcing Thor's absence to the Avengers naked. They are already close enough to see what's changing between them. Part of Thor wishes they were on Vanaheim or Alfheim, where everyone loves openly under the open skies.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Loki asks him.

 

“Vanaheim,” Thor answers and watches, fond, Loki's confused – and perhaps a touch insulted – frown. “It's nothing, just the weather. What do you wish to do today?”

 

Loki cocks his head. “We might try and find some place where there are still nice things in this world. A bar? An ocean? Or,” he clears his throat, looking a little sheepish. Thor adores that Loki allows such an expression on his face again. It makes him look young and lovely. “We could just stay in. Laze about.”

 

Thor knows instantly what Loki would like. And it just so happens their preferences align.

 

Thor orders pizza (the nearest place already knows that no, the amount truly isn't a prank and yes, their delivery person can get a picture  _ and  _ a large tip) and they wait for it to arrive on their patio, large mugs of coffee in hand.

 

The silence is comfortable and Thor takes stock of what happened last night. He feels lig

hter, but only just, still carrying the knowledge that there were times when he should have done better, done  _ more _ . That will never change for him, he knows. Without noticing, he has grown into responsibility, even if it's in way he didn't expect.

But Loki... he glances at his brother's calm face as he sips his coffee. Loki has come even farther than Thor has. The things he said to Thor, his reassurances, his affection – those Thor thought he had lost for good.

 

It gives him courage to act on the desire that is now fully solidified in his mind. To pick up where they left off, cautious but hopeful, last night, and many nights before. It sneaked up on him, in a way, between the hunger for comfort and between the love he has always born for Loki.

 

And between his friends' disquiet as well. It's not just Loki who has a tendency to be contrary.

 

“Tell us not to do something and it will ensure we will want to do it,” Thor murmurs and Loki turns to him, puzzled, before laughing, head tipped back.

 

“That better not be the only reason,” Loki scolds him good-naturedly once he's done laughing and Thor beams at him.

 

The pizza arrives and they settle on the couch, turning the television on to serve as bit of light-hearted background. Thor sits with one leg pulled up, his body angled towards Loki, finding much more enjoyment in watching Loki methodically put away the pizza in three bites per piece than he ever could in any midgardian TV channel.

 

His own chewing is a bit slower because a certain sense of anticipation is creeping up on him and he's still feeling something like tremors, or uneasiness, as a result of last night's grief.

 

Appetite mostly sated, Loki seemed to notice that and raises his eyebrows at Thor. “What's the matter?”

 

Thor pointedly takes a large bite. “Nothing. I was just thinking.”

 

Loki carefully dabs grease and flour from his mouth with a napkin, the gesture very proper and in direct contrast to the way he just ate his meal.

 

“Eat up,” he shakes his head, grabbing the remote and switching through channels randomly. Thor shuffles on the sofa to sit closer, knee digging into the side of Loki's thigh. Without taking his eyes off the TV, Loki places a hand on Thor's knee, then casually slides it up higher. Thor grins and bites into his pizza with renewed vigour.

 

Loki’s hand is hot through the thin fabric of Thor’s sweatpants and his entire focus zeroes in on the sensation. They’ve gone farther, much farther than a hand on thigh, they’ve had erections pressed to bare skin, they’ve nearly  _ kissed.  _ But this feels different, perhaps due to the intent that clearly hangs in the air between them. Or perhaps because it’s light out and they’re sitting out and about, undeniably awake and aware of everything that is going on. This is not a sleepy embrace or lips brushing in the dark.

 

Thor slows his chewing again, this time due to a flutter in his stomach that is pleasant, but too intense to mix with food. He puts the pizza away and Loki glances at him briefly, saying nothing, so he covers Loki’s hands with his and gives it a squeeze. He leans back, making himself more comfortable, presses closer to Loki.

 

A couple of minutes of slightly tense staring at the TV, Loki wriggles his hands from beneath Thor’s and takes up stroking his thigh instead, a light drag of his fingers back and forth right along the inner seam of Thor’s sweatpants. He seems to go higher and higher on every stroke, until his little finger brushes over Thor’s cock. It’s the barest of touches but Thor barely bites down a moan.

 

“That wasn’t there a second ago,” Loki say, voice low and warm.

 

“It definitely was.”

 

“No, my measurements are impeccable. You got in the way.”

 

He’s right of course, but the warmth that spreads through Thor has little to do with the fact that indeed he’s getting hard, and more with the delightful discovery of what Loki chooses to be like at this moment.. He’s warm and playful and teases Thor as much with his touch as he does with his words and Thor just wants to lie back and take it.

 

He spreads his arms along the back of the sofa, letting his right one fall around Loki’s shoulders, tugging him flush to his side. With a pleased sigh, Loki turns for a moment, nuzzling underneath Thor’s jaw before seemingly turning his attention back to the TV.

 

Thor smiles and bends his arm at the elbow so that he can walk his fingers right into Loki’s armpit.

 

The barest twitch of a shoulder is the first response, Loki looking stubbornly forward. Thor wiggles his fingers some more, nails dragging over the fabric of Loki’s tunic.

 

“Thor,” Loki warns and Thor can hear how he fights not to laugh.

 

“What?” he asks, grinning.

 

“Stop that.”

 

“This?” He pulls his arm away completely and sits two paces away, Loki’s hand slipping from his thigh. He turns to glare now.

 

“Are you a hundred? Or two? Because you act like it.”

 

Thor unsubtly adjusts his cock, making the outline obscenely prominent against the thin fabric. “Do I?”

 

Loki’s mouth puckers in a way that makes it clear he’s lost his battle against laughter and he drags his hands over his face, chuckling.

 

“Unbearable. Come back here.”

 

Thor does, beaming. He can’t remember the last time their ribbing and jesting was this lighthearted. He slides all the way back to Loki and then, on a whim, grabs him by the waist and hauls him onto his lap. Loki flails a little, steadying himself with hands on Thor’s shoulders before settling with both knees on each side of Thor, looking down at him a bit owlishly. 

 

Thor quite expects him to say something, or maybe take revenge on Thor for his tickling, but Loki’s face grows serious, focused. He keeps his hands on Thor’s shoulders, giving them a little knead even though the angle is all wrong, then smooths the front of his shirt until his thumbs drag over Thor’s nipples.

 

Thor remembers Loki essentially kissing them last night and smiles. He’s in for a world of pleasure. Eventually. 

 

His own hands are wrapped around Loki’s waist and he lets them fall to Loki’s thighs, feeling the hard muscle underneath. Loki is an outstanding rider and has always had the legs to show for it.

 

“We might have to learn to ride elephants here. I don’t think the horses could take our weight.”

 

“What- Thor, I’m not-” Spluttering, Loki makes to get off Thor’s lap and Thor stops him, closing him in a hug.

 

“What are you-” And then it starts to dawn on him, Loki is sitting  _ astride  _ on  _ him  _ and he’s just  _ said- _

 

Thor starts laughing and saying ‘no’ over again, shaking his head.

 

“Your legs,” he tries to explain himself between fits of laughter, dropping one hand to pat Loki’s thigh. “Your riding muscles. Oh Norns, I wasn’t having any thoughts like that.”

 

Loki stops squirming and pushes at Thor’s forehead with one finger until he’s splayed against the backrest. “With you, one never knows. I used to think-”

 

He stops, smile waning. Thor waits. “I used to think I could anticipate your every thought before you did. And the opinion wasn’t kind.”

 

“Put the ability to better use, then,” Thor teases. He understands what Loki means. He knows how he was at some times of his life, choosing to hone some things and completely discarding others, aiming for simplicity in his goals that often crossed the border of ignorance.

 

Loki smiles gratefully. “I don’t think so. I’ve learned. Your big, blonde head is a mystery and I would rather-” he swipes his thumb over Thor’s lower lip- “hear you say it.”

 

He pauses.

 

“Lest I become convinced there are some animals you wish to invite into our private moments.”

 

This time when Thor attacks Loki’s armpit with tickles, there is no mercy. 

 

In the end, Loki ends up cheating and Thor is suddenly holding nothing but thin air as his brother materializes on the ground, out of reach, laughing and rubbing his arms and chest protectively.

 

Thor wants to preserve this moment forever. All that pain, all that horror and it got them  _ here,  _ laughing and roughhousing the way they did when they were kids. 

 

Smirking, Thor sits back, arms leisurely draped against the backrest again, legs spread. 

 

“I win,” he announces, entirely certain the statement will bring Loki back to him, whether with the goal to distract him or to punish him for the impudence. 

 

He’s not wrong. Loki narrows his eyes and slowly gets to his knees. And stays there, crawling the remaining couple of paces to close the distance between them. 

 

Thor is no longer smirking. 

 

Loki puts his hands on Thor’s knees and slides both of them up in a mirror of the way he did before, but where that was ambiguous teasing, there is intent now in his eyes. He leaves his hands just at the crease of Thor’s hips and tilts his head up, gaze never leaving Thor’s.

 

As he leans forward, Thor thinks he’s glad this happened in the light of day, in a mundane room on Midgard. Everything is honest and on display. There is no glamour, no games, no darkness. 

 

He takes Loki’s face in both hands, wanting to thank him perhaps, or praise his beauty, or to repeat words of love, but he finds a better task for his mouth; he presses his lips against his brother’s. 

 

It’s bold and hot, both of their mouths parting almost immediately in search for more. When he no longer feels like his brain is exploding in blinding whiteness that reminds him eerily of the first time he held Mjolnir and of the first time the lightning coursed through him unbridled, Thor will look back and think of their interactions of the past weeks (or is it years?) and not understand how he thought this was only a couple of days old. 

 

When they part, Loki’s cheeks are hot underneath Thor’s palms and his eyes are glossy. Thor stares to figure out if it’s tears, but his investigation is cut short when Loki pushes forward almost harshly and kisses him again, breaking off merely seconds later to climb back into Thor’s lap.

 

Minutes later they are both panting, foreheads pressed together. Thor laughs shakily on an exhale.

 

“I’m a bit close to some embarrassment.”

 

Always one to make things harder on him, Loki unceremoniously reaches down to cup the hard outline of Thor’s cock.

 

“I’d be flattered.”

 

Thor doesn’t have a chance to raise up any defences. Even through the trousers, Loki’s hand feels divine and he presses even closer to Thor, whispering in his ear, breath hot and wet. “Please, brother. I want to feel it.”

 

Burying his face into the crook of Loki’s neck, Thor comes, belly tightening with the pleasure as his cock pulses in his sweatpants, massaged through it by Loki’s hand.

 

He huffs, a little sheepish even though Loki said it would be welcome, but then Loki is all impatiently thrusting forward, rubbing himself against Thor’s stomach and Thor holds him through it, encouraging, feeling the swelling hardness before Loki is twitching against him and then slumping with a deep sigh.

 

“‘S good,” Loki announces into Thor’s hair and Thor squeezes him just that bit harder. 

 

Looking past Loki’s shoulder and through the glass wall outside, Thor sees that they still have several hours of sunlight left in the day and smiles. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you <3

They take a shower together, but the way Thor doesn’t seem to be able to keep his hands off him tells Loki they might be getting dirty again soon.

 

His head is spinning like they’ve just been flying with Stormbreaker. It seems like one moment he was just poking and prodding his brother, being a pest the way he enjoys, and another moment he was coming hard, Thor’s arms around him, Thor’s mouth on his neck.

 

But it’s been coming for a long while. He knows that, but he still can’t help the feeling of his stomach lurching up, like he’s been casually sliding and sliding down, knowing where he’s going, only to come around the last bend and find a free fall waiting for him with no way to stop himself from plunging.

 

He’s landed though. Safe and sound, Thor’s soapy hands wrapped around his waist, nose nuzzling behind Loki’s ear, his growing erection tapping against Loki’s backside. Again.

 

Thor moves his hands lower until he’s working the soap to the edges of Loki’s pubic hair, then closer still, brushing his cock, letting his fingers trail over Loki’s balls.

 

“Do you want to go to bed?” Thor rumbles into his ear, so low and sensual that Loki shivers. He can only nod and he practically feels Thor bouncing excitedly behind him before pulling them both more directly under the shower spray to get rid of the soap.

 

He’s drying himself when he looks up, a little distracted, and catches the sight of Thor in the mirror, working himself with a towel too, but staring at the side of Loki’s face, a look of open joy brightening his features. Loki pauses and turns to him. Thor’s smile takes on a bit more casual note.

 

He seems so happy. So utterly _happy_ that it starts to scare Loki a bit.

 

“What?” Thor asks. “You have that look on your face that tells me I’ve done something wrong.”

 

“Not done,” Loki says, very eloquently. “You’re just...”

 

Thor takes the towel from Loki’s hands and hangs it up for him before tipping Loki’s chin up with his finger and pecking him on the lips. “I’m what?”

 

_A beautiful bastard_ , Loki’s mind supplies, thread of thought snapped by the up close intensity of Thor’s eyes. Shaking his head shortly, Loki reaches up to pet Thor’s beard. He’s been letting it grow a bit more than he used to and Loki likes the soft bushiness of it now.

 

“Bed?” Thor suggests again.

 

Changing his grip, Loki tugs on Thor’s beard. “Don’t rush me.”

 

Smile growing even wider, Thor detangles Loki’s fingers and peruses the bottles laid out on the vanity, grabbing one. He shakes it at Loki demonstratively. “Ready now?”

 

Despite the wiggling, Loki catches the midgardian writing on it that proclaims it a massage oil and he sighs loudly to let his brother know what he thinks of his antics and rushes to sprawl face down on the bed.

 

Thor puts the bottle down on the nightstand with a loud clack and stretches out next to Loki, fingers just skimming his side. Loki quite expected to be jumped once they finally made it there, but Thor seems content now, head propped on his hand, a quiet smile playing on his lips.

 

“I could look at you for hours,” Thor admits.

 

Loki smiles. “I _have_ looked at you for hours.”

 

That sets Thor blinking again in mild confusion. Loki continues. “Oh, come now. I have watched you spar, I was with you in the infirmary after your injuries, I’ve sat with you studying paying more attention to you than to my scroll-”

 

“And what did you do it for?” Thor asks, his tone not quite as teasing as Loki might expect and he barely catches himself on the realization that this is somehow serious in Thor’s mind. There’s the barest of creases between Thor’s eyebrows.

 

“I’m not sure I ever knew.” The crease disappears. It was not a response that Thor minded very much then. “Told myself many things, of course, some bad, some good. But I just always wanted...”

 

“To be close,” Thor murmurs and Loki nods. It’s as good a description of any, because truth is, he doubts either of them will ever manage to put into words what they’ve been through, what they’ve been to each other and what they are now. And Thor already knows the extent of Loki’s anger, has felt its consequences.

 

Loki lifts himself up just far enough to be able to lean to Thor and kiss him.His brother’s lips are full and yielding, his beard brushing over Loki’s skin, and he savours the newness of the situation.

 

For so long, their lives were near unchanging. Centuries spent in a march in a straight line - their kingdom, their place, the flimsy excuse for a race towards the throne that Thor promptly won, leaving Loki trailing in the dust behind him, unsatisfied. Now he realizes that Thor wasn’t happy either, no matter how good a front he put up.

 

The clearly drawn line of their future is now cut and no longer running forward. They can be anything.

 

Licking into Thor’s mouth, Loki will need to remember not to be overly happy about the destruction of an entire realm and thousands of lives lost. It’s not a good look. And truth is, he _is_ sorry for the deaths of their people. He mourns them, in his own way. But the sight of Asgard, with its golden halls and all its ways of keeping him and Thor shackled, going up in flames doesn’t haunt him. Quite the opposite.

 

They end up with Loki on his back, Thor above him, snugly fitted between Loki’s spread thighs, kissing him slowly as Loki drags his hands over the expanse of Thor’s back. When they part, a slightly smug smile is playing on Thor’s lips and Loki quirks his eyebrows at him.

 

“Are you plotting?”

 

“ _You_ are accusing _me_ of plotting?” Thor says in mock outrage. “Whatever I mean to do should be obvious.”

 

To Loki it’s not actually, not the specifics. He hesitates for a little too long and Thor clearly notices, smile softening into something warmer. He presses a kiss into Loki’s shoulder. “But I’m open to ideas.”

 

“No, let’s go with yours,” Loki says, clearing his throat briefly. Thor’s cock is pressed alongside his own, both considerably hard, and he supposes they really should start there.

 

“Hm,” is Thor’s response, along with a nearly imperceptible narrowing of his eyes. Loki pulls him down into another kiss before he can dig himself in any more than he already has and Thor goes easily with it, deepening the kiss and nipping at Loki’s lips in a way that make his stomach clench with shocks of arousal.

 

Loki hitches his leg up higher, wrapping it around Thor’s waist and their cocks slot together perfectly like that and Loki rocks his hips into it, moaning into Thor’s mouth at the delicious friction. He tries to coax Thor into rocking against him too with hands on his ass, but Thor pulls off, laughing.

 

“Wait, wait,” he says, a little breathlessly, holding himself up above Loki propped on both arms. “Let me...”

 

He doesn’t specify what Loki should let him do, instead he drops down to kiss the side of Loki’s neck, then lower, tongue darting into the dimples above Loki’s collarbones (Loki wants to return the favour), and finally wraps his lips around one of Loki’s nipples, sucking none too gently.

 

Loki arches up with a silent gasp, hands clumsily scrambling over Thor’s back, nails leaving scratches behind. He nearly apologizes when he realizes it, but then Thor’s teeth close over the hardened bud of Loki’s nipple and he’s yelping instead, no longer even _remotely_ sorry.

 

He winds his hand in Thor’s hair for insurance when Thor moves on to the next nipple, ready to strike back if needed, but instead Thor just laves his tongue over it until Loki squirms, then sucks hard enough to make Loki feel like he’s going to spill again from nothing but this.

 

But it seems like he won’t get the chance before, smooth as you please, Thor slides down the bed and nudges Loki’s legs even further open with his shoulders.

 

The words he means to say get stuck in his throat and he doesn’t make it before Thor is already taking the tip of his cock into his mouth, giving him a lazy stroke with one hand, root to tip until he’s bumping into his own mouth with his hand.

 

“Brother, I-”

 

It was so easy in the past days, with the closeness that avoided categorization, but this is something else. Thor stops, eyes dark, but he pulls off and lets go, even as he remains right there between Loki’s spread legs.

 

Loki swallows with effort. “I haven’t done that before.”

 

The shock on Thor’s face is immediate and unguarded and Loki winces. He now wishes he hasn’t said anything, but at the same time, while he knows he _could_ bullshit his way through this, he doesn’t _want_ to.

 

“What _have_ you done?” Thor asks carefully after a couple of seconds.

 

“Not much. Less than we have already done together.”

 

Thor looks down at Loki’s cock like he’s expecting it to elaborate. Or maybe like he wonders if he’s missed it having writing on it that spells “virgin”.

 

“Do go on,” Loki nudges him with his knee. “I may not have much experience, but I still think you were going to show me something interesting.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Loki reaches down to grab his cock and slap Thor on the cheek with it. “Yes.”

 

Thor swats him away and growls, punishing him for that by dragging his beard over the sensitive skin and Loki is even more grateful for its new softness than he was before, laughing as it tickles more than it scratches. But the good news is that after that, Thor doesn’t ask any more questions, instead sucks Loki into his mouth again, tongue playing with the underside, cheeks hollowing as he lowers himself.

 

It’s incredible and it feels like nothing like his own hand - the wetness and heat are overwhelming him quickly, not to mention the pretty pinkness of Thor’s lips and the pleased spark in his eye when he looks up at Loki. Somewhat nervous even underneath all that pleasure, Loki plays with Thor’s hair. It’s grown out a bit, but he misses the longer locks, imagine how good it would be to tug at them, show Thor where he wants it, how fast- but truthfully Thor is doing a good job of it on his own, his languid pace quickening just when Loki starts to get frustrated and wanting more.

 

“Yes,” he lets himself say, still lucid enough to swallow more babbling, fingers running through Thor’s hair a little erratically. The pleasure of it is sharper than anything he has ever known and he feels his mind giving way as much as his body is, prone to just dissolve in anything and everything that Thor does.

 

Getting close, he shuts his eyes and then startles when something bright flashes through his eyelids.

 

“What-”

 

It’s only then that he realizes the room has grown dark and there is a patter of rain hitting the large windows, heavy clouds shrouding the forest outside. And it’s storming. Another flash of lightning comes, followed instantly by thunder.

 

He meets Thor eyes, sees them glow, sees Thor smile around his cock and then a burst of power slides from Thor’s tongue into Loki’s cock and he seizes up with a gasp, coming so hard he blacks out for a second.

 

When he becomes aware of his surroundings, Thor kneels between his legs, slowly stroking his own cock and the rain hits the roof so hard it drowns out nearly all other sound. Loki realizes it hasn’t really rained here like this and if it has, then it was only when they too were up in the air, flying with Stormbreaker.

 

“Do you always do this?” he asks, tongue a bit leaden. He has trouble keeping his eyes on Thor’s face, gaze inevitably drawn down to where Thor is touching himself.

 

“Not always.”

 

He’s such a paradox, his brother. He’s bringing down the elements outside, rain and storm, he could work them up enough to topple buildings, but even as he does so he’s smiling, happy and eager, cock ready for anything Loki will choose to do to him.

 

He scoots forward and hikes his legs over Thor's, pulling their hips flush and joins his hand to Thor’s. He wants to freeze this moment in time; the way the velvety, slick skin of Thor’s hard cock feels underneath his fingers, how Thor lets out a sound like a hitched breath, like a cry of pain, when he tightens them, and most of all, how Thor is looking down at him, blissful and wanting at the same time.

 

Loki doesn’t let his inexperience get in the way here. He’s stroked his own cock enough times to know how to stroke his brother’s and he grows more confident with each second as Thor’s hands come to grip Loki’s thighs and he thrusts his hips into Loki’s fist. Just as Thor stiffens further in his hand and closes his eyes, throwing his head back with loud moan that makes Loki shiver, Loki realizes that they are near fucking this way, Thor wedged between his thighs, eagerly pushing forward.

 

He wanted to see Thor come undone before, on the sofa, and he wants it even more now, twisting his wrist the way he likes it for himself, a bit rough on the upstroke, and it seems to do the trick for Thor as well as he squeezes Loki’s thigh hard enough to leave bruises and his cock strains, red at the tip, his whole body shaking as he starts to spill all over Loki’s stomach and chest, then dribbling over his cock.

 

Before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea, Loki drags his fingers through the mess Thor left on his chest and brings them to his mouth.

 

“Um.”

 

Thor is laughing at him, breathless and flushed, and he probably thinks Loki is going to spit or make a face, but in truth what he’s tasting feels so undoubtedly connected to his brother that he actually enjoys it very much, sucking on his fingers until Thor stops laughing and grows intense again, and likely not very far from being ready to go again.

 

Which is just as well, because for his part, Loki certainly feels ready for another round.

 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, obscenely, letting the pop resonate in the room. The rain outside shows no signs of stopping.

 

“What else do you have to teach me, brother?”

**Author's Note:**

> **Discontinued.**


End file.
